So this is my sequel to The Crescent Sky. I did post a different first chapter, having the whole thing basically mapped out, but I wasn’t really feeling it so I pulled the story for a total rewrite. This is the result, and I feel pretty good about it. I love comments and feedback if you are kind enough to leave any, but if not-- thank you for reading.

Chapter One.

They’d been at this thing for three hours now and it didn’t show the slightest sign of letting up. Grady wandered moodily through the tight throngs of Hayward’s werewolf community. It was made of about fifteen packs in all, Luke told him, give or take. Most of them were flushed with wine and food, laughing and touching. Luke was in there somewhere, talking about stocks or bonds or some equally mystifying topic.

Grady was on his third drink. Possibly his fourth. Did those sips of Luke’s martini count? No, he thought, no. Martinis, it turned out, were absolutely revolting.

“It tastes like… olive juice,” he’d said, utterly horrified, pressing the cocktail glass back into Luke’s hands.

At this, Luke laughed. “It’s an acquired taste,” he admitted, his dark eyes alight with merriment. He was enjoying himself.

Grady did not bother sharing his opinion of the ridiculousness of that statement. Acquired taste. He snorted.

And now it was nearly midnight and they were still there, and Grady was still wearing his new dress shoes. They pinched his feet. He had detached himself from Luke’s side a while ago, feeling his own silence more keenly in the midst of the conversation going on around him. He’d made the effort, but found his social skills lacking in this company. It was hard, with all these strangers. He felt an underlying sense of apprehension, like people were staring at him behind his back. He picked through the ground floor of the mansion, weaving around the small groupings of Luke’s pack and their friends.

The rooms were huge and endless, connected by a series of wide archways, and at last, he found a door leading out. There was a porch out back overlooking the vineyards. The building itself was an enormous, white colonial that housed Luke’s grandmother on his mother’s side, and about four dogs that Grady had seen, all huge and slobbering. He kept his distance.

Slipping outside, he released a long, slow breath. The night was cool and damp, and each breath came crisp and enlivening, with a touch of… cigarettes.

“Hi there.”

Grady peered into the darkness. He could just make out a figure standing at the edge of the dim glow from the porch lights.

He stepped forward. “Hello.” He moved away from the brightness to the wood banister, and set his drink upon it. As his eyes adjusted, he caught a glimpse of light hair, cut shorter than his own, and a lean figure about his height. An orange dot flared for a second, and the figure tipped its head back, expelling a gray lungful of smoke.

“Want one?”

Grady’s eyes were adjusting and he recognized the figure. It was a young man he’d glimpsed a few times inside, and before, the first time Luke had brought him here to the vineyards for the change.

“Sure,” he said. “Berkeley, right? I’ve seen you around.”

Berkeley passed over a cigarette and lit it for him. “Yes you have. And you’re with Driscoll. His mate.”

Was that a smirk? With the dimness and booze, Grady could not tell. He sucked in a quick drag, getting used to the feeling of smoke in his lungs. He watched the cloud disperse. “Yeah,” he said, toneless. “I’m Grady.” Luke had not exactly introduced him to everyone explicitly as his mate. He had not said, “This is my mate Grady,” but Grady knew that they knew, and it made him feel weird.

“Huh.” Berkeley leaned his hip against the rail, staring openly. Grady could see him more clearly now. He was young, in his twenties. He had a look Grady had come to recognize over the years, and immediately he recognized a commonness between them. Some of his tension bled away.

“Yeah,” he said, needlessly. And didn’t that just say it all.

“Weird.”

Unbidden, Grady laughed. It was weird. Somehow, two months had gone by and he felt as though he lived in the Twilight Zone. Grady woke in the morning lying between Egyptian cotton sheets and there he was, Luke Driscoll. Tan and muscled and handsome and watching him with the warmest eyes.

And if that weren’t enough, Grady felt that he was in love, whatever that meant. It seemed to mean that his heart would swell every time he so much as looked at the man, and it was a reaction without thought; a base, primal sensation. And while he never talked about it, neither did Luke, but Grady felt it and it filled him. So who was Luke Driscoll? A good man. A brunette. Grady did not know.

“How do you know Luke?” he asked, curious.

Berkeley threw him a look and Grady felt his cheeks color despite the chill.

“I mean… how long have you known him? Are you related?”

Berkeley bobbed his head in a brief nod. “Second cousins. Never close. Seems like a good guy, though.”

“Yeah?” Grady prodded.

Berkeley threw him a sidelong glance. “Yeah. Right?”

Grady was taken aback. By himself, by Berkeley. “Yes,” he said, instantly. “Of course.”

Berkeley just watched him, a small, unreadable smile on his face.

They smoked in silence together for several minutes. Berkeley was seemingly calm, but Grady stared into nothing, his mind churning.

“What’s it like?” Berkeley asked.

Grady shot him a look, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

Berkeley shrugged. “Having a mate. What’s it like?”

Grady thought for a few seconds. “The Twilight Zone,” he said.

Berkeley laughed. His was a loud cackle, and honest.

“No, really,” Grady said. “It’s totally weird.”

“Good weird or bad?” Berkeley’s eyes were on him, knowing. He reminded Grady of someone he might have known a lifetime ago. Seeing him here in this place, it was like getting pinched in the middle of a dream.

“Good,” Grady said. Definitely good, and that was truth. Without thinking though, he added, “Most of the time.” And that was truth, too. Most of the time it was good, but there were those moments when Grady felt like a caged animal. Luke seemed to walk on eggshells around him sometimes, and never acted on his annoyance or his anger, no matter how Grady pushed him. It was infuriating.

“Hm.” Berkeley came a little closer, tossing the butt of his cigarette over the rail. A second appeared and he lit up. “So how do you know he’s your mate though? I’ve been in a couple relationships and I’d say they were pretty weird.”

Grady thought about that. “I don’t know,” he said, honestly.

“You don’t know?” Berkeley did not attempt to mask his skepticism.

“I’m just supposed to be with him.” Grady looked down at the cigarette in his hand, frowning. He struggled to put into words what he felt for Luke. He could not even understand it himself, how could he explain it to another person? “When I met him it was like I knew him already. Not like, his name or his job or his, you know. Favorite color. But I knew him.”

“Yeah, and he’s totally built.”

A smile came unbidden. “Yeah,” Grady agreed, quietly. “That doesn’t matter, though.”

Berkeley nudged him with an elbow. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me you would even be here if he was like, old and wrinkly and like, using one of those walkers with the tennis balls on the legs? Or,” he said, getting into it, “or if he was like this huge smelly guy with sweat stains all over his clothes?”

Behind them the door suddenly slid open, and they both peered over their shoulders, squinting in the light. Grady recognized the tall silhouette instantly.

“Luke,” he said, feeling guilty for some reason.

“There you are.” Luke’s palm found the small of Grady’s back. “Hello Berk,” he said, with a touch of surprise. “It’s good to see you.” He glanced back and forth between Berkeley and Grady, and Grady felt some of his earlier tension return.

Berkeley inclined his head in silent greeting, and opened his hand in a brief wave.

“Oh, Grady,” Luke said, noticing the cigarette. His tone was reproving,

“What?” Grady asked him, daring.

Luke made that low sound in the back of his throat, one Grady knew well. All he said, though, was, “You coming inside soon?”

Grady shrugged and looked down at his feet for a few seconds. He hated these shoes. “Yeah,” he said. “Soon.”

Luke’s hand moved up to the back of his neck, and gave a brief squeeze. “See you in a few minutes, then.” He threw one last look to Berkeley, and went back indoors.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Grady pinched out his cigarette and flicked it over the side of the rail. He remembered his cocktail and finished it in one big swallow. Berkeley stared out at the dark line of the horizon, cigarette burning between his fingers. Without looking over, he held the pack out and Grady accepted.

***

During the ride home, Grady sat twisted in his seat. He was drunk and tired and feeling woozy. He stared at Luke.

The car was dark, the hour well after midnight, and the occasional streetlamp bathed them in a dim orange glow. Luke was a good looking man, he thought, there was no doubt about that. Grady admired his square jaw, the handsome cut of his chin, his dark hair. It was a mess now, but Grady liked it that way. Messy hair on Luke was sexy. Neat, combed hair on Luke was sexy.

Without meaning to, he said, “You’re hot.”

The corner of Luke’s mouth turned up in a grin. He glanced over. “Yeah?”

Grady slowly nodded his head. “Um… yeah.”

They were driving South over 880, and on either side the darkness seemed thick and oppressive. Grady turned in his seat and peered out the window into the blackness. Yes, Luke was a good looking man. It was little wonder he turned Grady’s knees to jelly.

How did he know? The glass felt cool against his forehead. He closed his eyes.

“What were you and Berkeley talking about?”

Luke’s question floated around his head for a full minute before Grady formed a reply. “Just stuff,” he said, breath fogging the window. He felt Luke’s hand come down on his thigh. It was a warm, comforting weight. That hand did so much to him, that sometimes Grady felt he were owned by it. The most innocent touch sent him into a fever. He craved that hand.

“What if it’s just lust?” Berkeley had asked, once they were alone again. “What about that?”

What about that.

Luke’s fingers began an absent, stroking motion. It made Grady’s groin go tight, and his stomach squeezed in anticipation.

“Stuff?” Luke prodded.

Grady squirmed in his seat and the hand went away. “Yeah,” he said, bringing his leg up. He braced his heel against the seat, ignoring Luke’s pointed grimace.

“What are you doing?”

Grady fumbled with the thin laces, plucking at the tight knot. “Trying to… Shit, I hate these shoes.” He kicked the first off and started on the second.

“They look good on you.”

“They’re too tight.”

“Grady, you should have said something.”

“I did say something, and you said they just needed breaking in.”

Silence. Grady folded his arms over his chest and stared moodily out the window. “Berkeley is all right,” he said a few minutes later, regretting his outburst.

Luke sent him a measured glance. “He’s all right.”

“He said you’re second cousins.”

Luke’s hands flexed over the tight leather of the steering wheel. “Something like that,” he admitted. “I wish you would have spent more time with the others.”

Grady stared at him. “I did,” he said, defensive. “Remember? You were there.”

That got him another look. Luke’s jaw ticked, and Grady read irritation in the rigid line of his neck. “You hardly said a word.”

Grady’s temper flared. “What am I going to say? They were all talking about politics or business or…” He struggled for a second, his mind reaching. “Tennis,” he finished lamely.

Luke only made that low sound in his throat.

They drove by the nice part of town and then the bad part of town and then the other nice part of town, where Luke lived. They were almost back to his house.

“What’s going on with you, lately?” he asked, after many long minutes of quiet. His voice sounded weird, tight like wire.

Grady’s mouth formed a thin line and he began to feel embarrassed for some reason. He said nothing.

After a few beats of silence Luke added quietly, “You don’t seem very happy.”

The blood roared in his ears, and Grady put his hand over the car door handle. Luke brought the vehicle to a stop in the driveway and the locks gave. Grady dove out onto the pavement, shoes and socks in hand. Luke came more slowly, rounding the car and moving up the walkway. Grady waited by the door, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

Luke let them inside and Grady ran upstairs to change. He pulled on a pair of shorts and an AC/DC shirt with a big hole near the collar. As he dressed, he thought about his behavior in the car, his silence in the face of Luke’s question. What was wrong with him? Here was Luke, saving his ass from all the shit in Lincoln, taking care of him after that day in the woods. Accepting him after what he’d done. Grady felt his face grow hot.

He hadn’t been thinking. He told himself that. Part of him was glad Kevin Taylor was gone, but the rest of him just went cold at the memory. He’d thrown caution to the winds and taken an enormous risk without any consideration at all, and it had fallen to Luke to shoulder the repercussions. Grady knew he could never endanger Luke’s life or his reputation again. He’d fucked up, but instead of ditching him Luke was giving him another chance. He’d opened his home to Grady and provided for him, welcomed him into his life.

He could hear Luke’s steps coming slow and heavy up the stairs. Grady bit his lip, and retreated to the bed. He sat at the end of it, lifting a paperback from the nightstand. It was a mystery novel, and he flipped through it aimlessly. Luke appeared at the door and briefly met Grady’s gaze before moving into the attached bathroom. The fan whirred and he left the door open a crack behind him.

Grady scooted back on the bed, folding his legs beneath him. He skimmed the blurb on the back of the book, all of his thoughts turned to the man behind the bathroom door. After a minute he found himself staring at it, waiting for Luke to come out, and then quite suddenly Luke did, hitting the light behind him.

Grady scrambled under the blankets, pulling them up to his chest. He watched Luke from bed.

Luke stripped down to his shorts and left his watch on the dresser. He switched the lights off and they were bathed in darkness. Grady felt the mattress dip as Luke climbed in. Silence filled the room.

Grady wanted to say something. His mind churned, but eventually he fell asleep. Some time later, he came to, a warm hand squeezing his shoulder. Luke stood over him, his dark eyes glittering. The hallway light was on.

“Get up,” he said. “I want to show you something.”